The Tale Of Elyoric
by Twillight Bunny
Summary: The tale of a druid as he embarks on the adventure of a lifetime. Chapter 6 is now up!
1. The Den of Evil

Disclaimer: Diablo 2 belongs to people who are not me.

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"_Ignis Aduro_!"

They were everywhere. Smallish, crazed rodent demons, razor sharp spines erect upon their grey-green backs, advancing closer and closer with every passing moment.

Elyoric swore, stepping back as he mumbled another firestorm spell. The flames snaked along the ground, hitting the quill rats dead on which writhed in agony as the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Their horrible screeching died down soon enough, and the druid disgustedly picked up the small bits of gold from among the blackend carcasses of the creatures.

Seeing as it was getting dark, he proceeded to remove a teleportation scroll from his inventory. Breaking the enchanted blue and gold seal upon it, he watched with mild interest as the magic bound in the wax was released, manifesting itself in the form of a swirling blue portal. Stepping through the vortex, he found himself back at the rogue's encampment once more.

The bonfire had been lit, and the sight of the roaring flame lifted his spirits somewhat. He stood by it contentedly for a while, enjoying the warmth of it, which was a pleasant change from the chilly winds that constantly whipped through the camp. Warriv sat at his usual spot, the likeable man giving him a small wave, which he happily returned. Kashya only glared at him before moving away towards the tents.

She was a frosty one, that.

He still remembered how she had practically snarled at him the first time he had walked into camp a few days ago, and although the other rogues were still chilly towards him, none yet matched the iciness of their captain. Still, he didn't really blame her. The decision to trust him was entirely up to her, and frankly he didn't particularly care at the moment. The rogues were a proud people, he knew that much, and it was a pride that would require some work to get past.

Running a hand through his dark hair, he wearily made his way towards his tent, pulling the quilted armour off himself as he walked, the sweat-soaked material feeling heavy in his hands. His sword swung lazily at his hip.

Entering his tent, the druid stripped off most of his armour and underpadding, leaving only his white undershirt and his bloodied trousers from where a Fallen had managed to land a lucky strike. Thankfully, the wound had been nothing that a minor health potion couldn't fix, and he had been right as rain in a matter of minutes.

Still, in the time it had taken for the potion to work, his leg had bled profusely, soaking the material of his pants. He grumbled a little at the unpleasant thought of the laundry he would have to do the next day. Grabbing a towel from his backpack, along with a washcloth and change of clothes he knew to be reasonably clean, he exited the little canvas shelter, and made his way towards the banks of the river Aidas.

Gheed leered a little at him as he passed, and Elyoric had to surpress a small shudder at the gesture. He had heard whispers, mostly from Charsi, about the merchant's fondness of supple young boys, though he didn't really pay them any mind. Being a student of Nature, he had been taught from a young age to accept the many forms of her children, and to be honest he doubted that the rotund man had any access to 'supple young boys' in a camp full of highly trained Rogues.

For a moment, he had a ludicrous vision of the portly merchant attempting to seduce Kashya, and the absurdity of the whole scene made him smirk to himself.

The captain would most probably rip off his manhood and force-feed it to him if he even so much as _suggested _anything even _remotely_ connected to intercourse between them.

Reaching a quiet part of the river, far enough from the camp to give him some measure of privacy yet near enough to hear if any commotion occurred. Elyoric carefully removed his boots, placing them on the grass next to a rock where he kept his towel and change of clothes. Then, he peeled away the last layers of cloth from his body, and slid into the water. It was cold, invigoratingly so, and he joyfully ducked his head into the river.

He always loved being in water. It was like moving through the finest silk imaginable, the coolness enveloping his limbs in a gentle cocoon that felt oddly cooler with every move he made. He swam around for a little while, enjoying the feel of the water. Then, he began scrubbing at himself with the washcloth, starting with his face and working his way downward. His bath came to an end soon enough, and once he was dressed in a light tunic top and trousers he headed back to the camp. He didn't pass Gheed on his way back, and he felt a whole lot better once he had put away the clothes in his tent.

He then made his way towards the mess tent, which was mostly empty save for a few rogues. He took the bowl of stew and piece of bread that was offered to him, thanking the Sister on duty and receiving a stony stare in return. Even if he was far removed from Scosglen, his manners never left him. He sighed, and silently began eating his meal. It was during this time that Kashya suddenly walked up behind him, a scowl already forming on her features as she impatiently cleared her throat.

"Akara wants to talk to you. _Now._"

It wasn't a request. Her tone clearly implied that failure to respond would end in many unpleasant things for him, most of which would include hot metal. He got to his feet, hastily finishing his dinner.

"Right. Thank you, captain."

She spun around on her heel, and left wordlessly, still scowling. He smiled at her retreating back, wondering at the many ways that Nature helped her children cope with the terrible evil that had plagued the lands of Entsteig and beyond. She was hurting. The constant threat of monsters and other unholy creatures, the loss of her sisters to the Prime Evils, the fall of the monastery in the Tamoe highlands to the forces of hell all weighed heavily upon her. He said a small prayer to the spirit of the wood as he walked towards Akara's clearing, seeking peace for the angry woman. The camp elder stood facing away from him, her purple cloak drawn around her thin shoulders in an effort to keep the biting chill of the wind away. Just as he drew nearer, she turned, her grey eyes searching his own icy blue morosely. She looked at him for a moment longer, then began to speak.

" Forgive me, but I fear that I must beg you your help. You see, there is a place of great evil in the wilderness, a place where many a Rogue has been slain. Kashya's scouts report that a cave nearby is filled with many shadowy creatures from beyond the grave, and I fear they may be massing for an attack against the camp. Please, we have already lost enough of our sisters to the evil which has corrupted our land. I beseech you, find this dark labyrinth and destroy these fouls beasts."

He said nothing for a minute, the silence thickening between them. Then, his lips parted as he spoke: "I will help you."

The High Priestess gratefully took his hand in hers, squeezing them warmly. Then, she smiled at him, before entering her tent, signifying that the conversation was over. Elyoric decided that sleep sounded like a very good idea, and so made his way back to his tent, crawling onto his bed where he was soon fast asleep.

Morning came soon enough, and after another bath, where he also took the oppurtunity to do his laundry, Elyoric was soon ready to leave for the Den of Evil. Tightening the straps of his bracers, the druid then set out from the camp, entering the Blood Moor. He encountered a few monsters along the way, though nothing that his steel and magic couldn't dispose of without too much trouble.

Soon enough, he found himself standing outside the Den of Evil, having located the place without too much difficulty. The dark pit reeked of death, the unnatural aura of the undead and corrupted emanating from the place as stink would off a rotting carcass. Steeling his resolve and unsheathing his sword, the druid entered the fetid cavern, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the low level of light.

He was alone, as far as he could tell, and he slowly made his way deeper and deeper into the cave. Suddenly, a couple of large figures lumbered towards him.

They were Gargantuan beasts, sadly corrupted by the Prime Evils into beings that no longer heard the gentle voice of Nature. Swinging their massive fists, Elyoric could only dodge the attack as he rolled out from under the giants. His blade cut into the forearm of the one closest to him, and the creature roared in pain as its companion raised its arms for another bone-crushing blow.

Thankfully, the creature's ponderous bulk made it hard to maneuver in the small space of they were in, and a few wild slashes and another firestorm spell soon dispatched them. Things continued in this manner for a while, him running into a few Fallen here and there, or a zombie wandering the passageways, leaving him with injuries no more serious than a shallow cut upon his left arm, and a few random scratches. Then, as he rounded a corner in the dank pit, he suddenly froze.

Before him was a _huge _Fallen camp, the large chamber teeming with the imps and their fanatic shamans. Crouching low behind a rock, he quickly decided that he needed some help, and thus whispered a spell that summoned a poisonous vine to his side. The creeper poked tentatively out of the ground at first, like a shy serpent, then began to roll around in the mud as if it had sensed its master's tension.

Elyoric took a deep breath, then jumped out from behing his hiding place, uttering a war cry know only to his people. His sword hacked through the crowds of short red demons, their gurgling cries blending in with the sickening sound of metal squelching through flesh. Fireballs rained from all sides, the enraged shamans hungry for his blood as he ducked and weaved through the throng of frenzied demons, blocking blows with his buckler while slashing madly.

His vine was hard at work too, spreading its virulent poison among the many demons, their angry red skin turning a dull green as the toxin worked its way through their system. Thankfully, the Fallen were weak creatures, owning much of their success as conquerers to the ressurrection spell their mages possesed, and once those had been dealt with the remaining fell soon enough.

The battle had taken its toll on him though. A nasty gash bled angrily down the side of his chest, and he could feel the bruises beginning to form at the side of his head. His arms and back hurt from where the imps had managed to land a few blows, his vine had been cut to pieces, and his armour had been reduced to shreds. He was pretty sure that his left thigh had been burnt by a stay fireball as well. Luckily for him, he had stumbled across some leather armour from one of the shamans he had killed, which he gratefully donned.

Adjusting the leather upon his back, he picked up the spoils of his victory: some gold, a few potions of blue and red and a small, chipped diamond. Then, after downing the contents of one of the crimson bottles, he made his way forward, the tingling sensation of the potion knitting his flesh together making him smile wearily to himself.

He marched onward, warily watching for the slightest hint of trouble. He didn't encounter any creatures for a while, a respite he was grateful for even though it made him edgier and edgier as he walked. Then, he saw it.

The zombie was definately of a different rank than its undead brethren, the horrible greenish-grey colour of its rotting flesh suggesting that it had been quite old. The abomination moaned loudly, alerting it's comrades towards his presence. The small spark of intelligence the creature seemed to possess surprised him a little. A few other zombies ambled towards the thing from around a corner, and they immediately shuffled towards him instead when they caught sight of him, hands outstretched while their heads lolled bonelessly upon their shoulders.

The higher ranking zombie stayed back, clomping towards what appeared to be a large wooden cage behind it. Elyoric had little time to ponder this, as he found himself facing the group of undead cadavers which kept getting closer. Raising his hand, he shouted "_Glacia Durui_!", causing a jet of freezing wind and ice to erupt from his palm, halting the zombies in their tracks. A few of them toppled over, dead, the attack robbing them of the tiny bit of life that they mindlessly clung to. The remaining soon met the same end as his sword made short work of them.

Then, he stepped forward, and found himself in a large chamber that was empty save for the zombie-leader and the cage. Now that he was close to it, Elyoric could see that the cage was in fact occupied by a cloaked figure, their unconcious form lying on the wooden floor.

They had a hostage?

Gritting his teeth, he ran straight for the walking corpse, which moved surprisingly fast for its kind. Dodging the first strike, the creature lashed out at him, decaying fingernails reeking of foul poisons. Elyoric parried the attack, using his momentum to slash at the zombie's midsection with one quick twist of his body.

His steel connected, and the creature moaned in blind rage as it swiped at him furiously again and again. The druid danced out of the way, his buckler taking the impact of most of the blows. The creature was stronger than it looked, shrugging off the cuts and lacerations all over its body in its single-minded quest to extinguish his life. This continued for a while, him blocking and attacking, the snarling monster madly trying to remove his head from his shoulders.

Soon, Elyoric could tell that he was wearing the creature down, because it was becoming more and more aggressive, its blows slowing in pace yet becoming more desprate with every passing moment. He managed to land a few more cuts on the undead creature, when suddenly the zombie landed a blow of its own.

He was thrown across the cave, slamming into the cage and breaking a couple of the bars as lightning surged through his body. He slid down, landing painfully on his behind. It took him a moment to recover, and in that moment the zombie had begun making its way towards him, the sound of its heavy footsteps echoing menacingly through the empty cave. He was stunned. He tried to do something_, anything_, but the electricity that had coursed through his veins a moment earlier left his mind strangely blank. Just as the zombie was almost upon him, a voice called out weakly behind him.

"Get…down…_Cryka Ceoro_!"

He barely managed to duck as the ball of magic flew past his head, hitting the zombie square between its undead eyes. Instantly, the creature froze, its tissue and muscle crackling as they turned into solid ice. Then, just as unexpectedly, the zombie shattered, raining small chunks of frozen cadaver and blood all over the dazed druid. He shook his head, wincing as he did, then turned to thank his rescuer in the now broken cage.

It was a young woman, and she had passed out again.

The druid stood up. Elyoric created another portal, and carefully carrying the mysterious stranger in his arms, stepped through it.

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A/N: My first fic for this fandom...Yay!!


	2. Blood Raven

Disclaimer: Me no own Diablo 2.

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_She remembered the rain. The cold drops of water pounding the both of them, their backs to each other as they warily stared at the horde of undead creatures surrounding them, corpses wrought from the eternal slumber of death to serve that madwoman. She could feel him tense up, making herself grip the staff in her hands more tightly as they both readied themselves for the oncoming onslaught. The demon-woman laughed at the two of them. "Join my army." She repeated, her hideous voice carrying across the graveyard, even through all the screaming wind and lightning. They would probably die in this battle, but by the angels in Heaven she would not allow them to harm a single hair on his head. Then, just as she took a step forward, her world exploded in a flash of light_.

Elyoric sat on a low stool, and looked at the stranger lying on his bed.

When he had teleported back into camp, the unknown young woman in his arms, Akara had really taken charge. She had immediately set to work on a healing potion, insisting that he put her to bed as soon as possible since she would require plenty of rest.

Kashya had causticly pointed out that since _he_ had taken the last spare tent, the stranger would have to have _his_ bed, a point that Elyoric felt he didn't really want to push. Still, after Akara had administered her potion, the young woman had really started looking a lot better.

The druid studied her, intelligent eyes taking in every inch of her troubled face as she slept fitfully.

She had long honey-brown hair which reached her waist, the natural curls looking limp and grimy at the moment, and a simple circlet of silver encrusted with a single emerald upon her brow. This stranger had a sweet, heart-shaped face, her youthful apperance made even more pronounced by the porcelain skin, the smallish nose and bow-shaped mouth.

She looked on the thin side, though he knew that some stew and good bread would soon fix that.

Her clothes consisted of a pale blue bodice with laces on the front, worn over a cheap wool undershirt dyed a deep mauve and a simple black skirt that reached her knees. A pale blue sash was tied to her waist, and her feet were clad in high walking boots, which looked well worn.

All in all, she was a pretty young woman, though for the life of him he couldn't understand just _why _someone like her could have ended up where she had.

Then, all of a sudden, she shot up in bed, large jade-green eyes frantically roaming her new surroundings, her breathing becoming more and more ragged as she looked at him fearfully. Elyoric smiled cheerfully, hoping to put her at ease, though it did little to help. She seemed to be staring at something behind his left shoulder, though her eyes seemed more than a little unfocused.

"So, miss…are you feeling better now?"

"Is he okay?" she blurted out suddenly, those startling green eyes locking with his own. There was a desprate, almost frenzied look to them.

Elyoric was clueless. She looked as though she was about to cry now, and the druid gently took her by the shoulders. "I am Elyoric Ahn' Etraelh, a druid of the El Roukh clan of Scosglen. You, miss, may call me Eli. I found you a few hours ago, and I brought you to a camp run by the Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye. Now, what would your name be?"

She completely ignored him, and started rambling instead.

"Please, where is he? We were in the… the wilderness… and those gates...and the rain and…" Her eyes widened. "Oh god." She immediately pulled the blankets off herself, and pushing his hands away, she swung her legs over the side of the bed before attempting to stand up shakily. Almost immediately, she sat back down again, her head swaying as though the slight exertion had taken all the wind out of her.

"Please, miss, you need to rest. Akara says that you had been poisoned, and the antidote needs time to fully heal you. Now please, rest, I will bring you some food." He said, gently pushing her back onto the lumpy mattress.

"No, please, we have to go get him…"she trailed off, her voice seemingly gone hoarse. Standing in the doorway of the tent was Kashya, her arms crossed as she scowled at the two of them. "I see our latest vagrant is finally awake. I shall inform Akara at once." The redhead stalked off, leaving the two occupants of the tent alone.

"Don't let it get to you, she's pretty much mean to anything that breathes around here." He said, trying to make her laugh. She was pensive, but then she cast him a sideways glance. A shuddering sigh escaped her lips, and then she began to speak.

"My name is Arixia. Please, you must help me find him. My brother. We were lost in the wilderness when we came upon a most terrible place, and-" her story was cut off as Paige suddenly entered the tent.

A wink in her eye, the rogue walked over to Arixia, where she unceremoniously hefted her off the bed. Then, as though she were carrying a sack of potatoes, she easily slung the surprised girl over her shoulder and casually walked out of the tent, saying as she left: "Kashya has called for a meeting. You two should hear this as well. Hurry."

Elyoric was a little taken aback by this, not to mention highly amused, and figuring that since Kashya had actually _sent _someone over to inform them, it had to be important. He hurried after the two women, and was further tickled to see that Arixia had managed to squirm her way from the other woman's shoulder, and instead was walking alongside her now, cheeks aflame.

Paige was one of the few rogues who had warmed up to him, possessing a sense of humour which was a rare thing indeed in these troubled times. He settled into an easy stride next to the two of them, and the three of them soon found themselves standing around the bonfire. The sun had long since set, and even the sound of crickets had stopped filling the air. Warriv stood away from them, chatting with Akara. The captain stood at the other end of the clearing, flanked by a few rogues. Once all the members of the order had filled the clearing, she cleared her throat, then began to speak.

"My sisters! I have come upon some very disturbing news indeed. Apparently, Andariel is not content with just taking our living. It seems that she has corrupted Blood Raven, who now raises our _own_ sisters in the monastery graveyard as zombies to fight against us!"

The rogues fell silent. The rage hanging in the air was unmistakenable, when all of a sudden Arixia broke the silence. "I shall destroy her." Her jaw was set, and there was a strange fire in her eyes. Almost simultaneously, the entire camp population turned to look at her, their surprise evident upon their faces.

Kashya studied the girl, then said: "This is not a game, _child_. Blood Raven was our finest captain against Diablo at Tristram, and I'm sure that Andariel has augmented her abilities even further after death. Do not dishonour our dead with your false bravado."

The brown-haired girl was perfectly calm as she spoke. "She-that _bitch_ has my brother. And I want him back. And believe me, I _will_ get him back." And with that, she stormed off towards Elyoric's tent, her determination healing her almost as well as Akara's antidote.

The next day, after a meal of bread, meat and berries, the young woman set out for the Cold Plains, only to be stopped by Elyoric at the gate which led to the Blood Moor.

"I see you are going to kill Blood Raven."

"Let me pass."

"Now now, no need to be rude. I was just wondering, how exactly are you planning on defeating her?"

"None of your business. Now let me pass."

"I'm just saying, most people find that a _weapon_ comes in pretty useful when you're trying to _kill_ something."

That made her stop. Her hands balled into fists at her side, and she nearly shook with fury as she all but spat the words at him.

"I can't _afford_ anything."

"Now, this is why you're going to love me. Here." He said, throwing a staff towards her, which she expertly caught, the confusion evident in her eyes. "I've got some armour you could use as well," he continued.

Her jade eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean? I don't need your charity."

He laughed at that. "No, no, not charity. I have to make sure that my apprentice is properly suited for battle."

She stared at him incredulously.

"Apprentice? And when exactly did I become _your _apprentice?"

"Since last night, when I worked out a little deal with Kashya after your little outburst. Basically, all you need to know is that we need to kill Blood Raven. Shall we?" he said, smiling as he held out some leather armour to her."I think that should fit you nicely." He said, more to himself than anyone else.

She stared at him. The druid was mad. That had to be it. He was mad, and she was supposed to follow him to a graveyard somewhere out in the wilderness and kill an even more insane demon-thing. Who had her brother. Sometimes life was just _wonderful_.

She couldn't help it.The laughter started deep in her throat, before bubbling past her lips in what were a few giggles at first, which soon turned into full-blown, side-splitting laughter.

Now it was his turn to stare. The girl before him held her sides as she doubled over, laughing like a maniac the entire time. He watched her for a while, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile as she grabbed the armour and put it on, the tears prickling at her eyes as she finished with the final laces of her armguards.

Then, picking up the staff he had given her, she walked past him, "Okay fine, _Eli_. But I'm not calling you master."

He only smirked.

They had appeared out of nowhere.

One minute they were walking along the Cold Plains, and the next they found themselves surrounded by a group of about seven dark hunters. The corrupted rogues wielded spears and swords, though without any finesse whatsoever. Arixia was a pretty good fighter, Elyoric noted as he parried another jab from one of the demon's lances.

With a deft motion of his hand, he neatly countered a frenzied slash from the one behind him with his buckler, before bringing his sword around and sheathing it deep within the wretched creature's heart in one smooth arc. The spearwoman sneered, making to impale him, but he quickly sidestepped her while his sword found its mark.

The remaining two were soon taken care of with a firestorm spell. Arixia stood her ground againt the three that tried ganging up on her. The staff spun expertly in her hands, breaking the kneecaps of one hunter, while smashing into another's head, causing both to cry out pitifully as they sank to the ground. The third could only watch as the brown-haired girl raised her hand and muttered a spell, sending a bolt of pure ice singing through the air before it collided with the creature's face. Stumbling back, the moment of hesitation was all the girl needed as she leaped forward, bringing the staff down hard against the hunter's skull, the sickening cruch that followed soon followed by the demon's death. Wiping her brow, she looked at him, her heavy breathing evening out quickly.

"You're not half bad."

"Likewise." He replied good-naturedly, happily pocketing his half of the spoils of their shared victory.

They continued their trek across the Cold Plains, occasionally running into more groups of the corrupted rogues, or of Fallen.

One nasty encampment of the little imps even had a High Shaman, a foul demon with a particularly high level of magical resistance who called himself Bishibosh. The creature seemed to take an extra delight in hurling his explosive fireballs at Arixia, somehow seeing the sorceress as more of a threat than the druid. It was all she could do to dodge the magical assault, occasionally firing her own icy blue spheres of magic at any Fallen or their Shamans whenever the chance arose. It had been a tough battle, but the two of them had finally managed to defeat the High Shaman.

They both gratefully downed their respective bottles of crimson potion after that, the aches in their muscles soothed immensely by the magical brew. That had been a few hours back.

Now, twilight was fast approaching, and they found themselves standing before the path that led to the graveyard. The crumbling ruins, visible in the distance, had once been the magnificent final resting place of countless rogues, the pride of the Order.

Now, however, it throbbed with the insane power that had possessed Blood Raven to desecrate everything she had once believed in.

Elyoric sighed, his grip on the handle of his trusty sword tightening as he stepped forward. Arixia downed one of the three cerulean potions she had left on her, before she joined the druid. They walked together, breaking out into a run as they approached the burial grounds. Hoards of the undead milled about the place, and their presence was soon noticed as the various corpses began uttering bone-chilling moans, re-animated feet shuffling towards them.

There she was.

In the middle of the burial grounds, standing under a tree that must have died many years ago, was the reason they had undertaken this trip in the first place. Blood Raven tilted her mutated head back, her lips parting wetly as she began to roar with laughter, the horrible sound seemingly coming from every direction. A corpse suddenly burst forth from the ground, causing both druid and sorceress to dive for safety a few yards apart.

Elyoric swore as he hit the ground, tucking his limbs and rolling forward with his momentum before springing up to his feet in a defensive stance. His poison creeper would be all but useless in the current situation, seeing as how the undead were naturally gifted with a resistance towards toxins, so he had to rely on his elemental spells to help him.

No matter. He had little time to think, for the first wave of putrid corpses were now almost upon him. Raising his hand, he invoked the artic blast spell, instantly freezing the first few monsters that were lumbering towards him, while slowing down the ones behind. He had no time to waste on them at the moment, for his real target was currently running away from him, stopping every now and then to fire flame-enchanted arrows which he blocked with his trusty buckler.

He gave chase, managing to land a few gashes on the demon, enraging it further.

Meanwhile, Arixia was doing a pretty good job of keeping the zombies away as well, though one of the fiends had managed to bash the side of her head with its fists, a trickle of blood visible near her temple. Her staff whirled madly like a cyclone as she advanced through the mass of rotting corpses, breaking ancient bones and smashing faces with the consistency of old jam.

Apparently, she had the same idea as the druid, for she seemed to be focused solely upon Blood Raven too.

Once she had enough room, she stopped, ducking to avoid one of the fire arrows before unleashing an ice blast spell which caught the retreating demon right in her back, instantly slowing her down as a wave of frost coated her unholy hide. Screeching, the creature stopped and turned on her heel, unleashing a volley of arrows at the young sorceress.

Thankfully, a tombstone lay a few paces to her right, and Arixia quickly dove behind it, though not before an arrow pierced her calf.

Elyoric heard the shriek of his companion, instantly turning around and fairly flying towards her, ducking and weaving through the crowd of icy cadavers.

His artic blast kept the undead away from the both of them, as he knelt down on one knee, channeling the icy wind through one hand, the other quickly reaching for a red potion which he held out towards her. "Take it." he commanded, sounding a little out of breath as he concentrated on maintaining an icy radius around them with the spell.

Gritting her teeth in pain, the tears streaming down her bloodied face, Arixia uncorked the bottle, before she gripped the wooden shaft embedded in her leg. In one motion, she twisted the slender arrow and yanked it out, simultaneously slamming the bottle of healing potion to her lips. Her scream muffled by her own hand over her mouth, the green-eyed girl sobbed silently as the potion began to work, knitting flesh and muscle and tendon back together.

Seeing that the injury was significantly reduced, Elyoric stood up, banishing the freezing wind he had been conjuring. Arixia thankfully looked up at him, before scrabbling back to her feet. Then, grabbing her staff with renewed vigour, the two of them stepped out from behind the stone that had served as their temporary shelter.

Blood Raven now stood on the far coner of the graveyard, obviously weakened yet still managing to summon her undead minions. A veritable army of those abominations now separated them from the foul demon.

Elyoric was about to take a step forward, when he felt Arixia's hand on his arm. "Hang on, I'm going to try and teleport us to where she is." she breathed. Looking questioningly at her, he stilled, watching as she closed her eyes in concentration. Then, in a flash, he was suddenly standing barely a yard from the crazed demon, who obviously didn't expect them to suddenly just appear next to her like that. The moment of confusion proved most costly for the former rogue captain.

Before she could make a move, Elyoric charged, plunging his sword right in her heart. Her eyes widening, Blood Raven threw her head back as she staggered backward from them, a hand going to the gaping wound in her chest in a feeble attempt at stopping the blood from escaping her dying frame. Without warning, her entire body suddenly exploded as bolts of lightning seemingly danced all around them, shattering tombstones, ripping coffins right from under the ground, the smell of ozone hanging thickly in the air as pure electricity shot through the numerous corpses. Elyoric watched that incredible display, his mouth hanging open in mute shock. Turning around to see his companion's reaction, he saw that she sat hunched over an open coffin a little way off from him, her shoulders heaving as sobs wracked her body.

Someone was sitting up in the coffin, patting her back weakly.

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A/N: Aaand we're done with Chappie 2!! In case any of you were wondering it's pronounced 'Eee-Lie-Oh-Rick', not 'Ell- Yo-Rick'.

And by the way, are Eli and Arixia coming off as Stu/Sue-ish? lemme know,okay?


	3. Breakfast and a Story

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

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Arixia hugged the boy before her, the tears streaming down her face. In all her nineteen years of life, she had never been more grateful to the gods than at that instant. He was weakened, yes, but he was_ living_, and she cried harder at the thought that her little brother of only seventeen had survived being buried alive for _nearly_ _two days_.

She was aware of his arm around her neck, patting her back soothingly, and she let loose a fresh wave of spluttering sobs as she realised that _he_ was comforting _her_. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of rushing air behind her, and knew that Eli must have opened a portal back to the rogue's encampment. Swiping at her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand, she gently helped her brother to his feet.

He wobbled, and she instinctively grabbed him in a one-armed hug as she used her staff to steady the both of them. The druid had left before them, obviously to give them some measure of privacy, and she was secretly grateful for the gesture. Then, both of them slowly made their way through the swirling portal.

Arixia obviously loved her little brother to death, quickly depositing him in the druid's tent, before rushing off to get him some food. Then, she had spent the next few hours haggling with Gheed, the loot she acquired from the many creatures she had felled paying for a small new tent, some armour and a few personal items, and a sleek dagger which she tucked into her sash.

Elyoric watched her as she buzzed around the camp. Having her brother back made the girl positively glow, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her as she skipped by, probably to see if Akara had finished with the healing potion she had begged the elder to prepare.

Kashya's eyes met his from across the bonfire, and she gave him a small, tight-lipped smile and a half-nod which he returned happily.

Blood Raven's defeat had put the woman in better spirits, and the rogues were now treating him with a whole new level of warmth. Still smiling, he dusted himself off as he stood up, stretching a little then lazily made his way to his tent. The sorceress's staff had been carefully placed near his backpack, the heavy piece of wood now wiped clean of the gore that had been all over it earlier that day.

His new tent-mate lay curled up on his bed, fast asleep, blankets piled upon his frame and exposing nothing but his head. His face turned to one side as soft breath escaped his full, parted lips, and Elyoric blinked as he realised that this was the first time he had actually _seen _the boy Arixia cared so much for.

Pulling up the stool that lay in a corner of the canvas shelter, he sat down, and proceeded to study the child. He looked _young_, probably no more than sixteen, and he had longish white-blonde hair that stuck up crazily from his head in every direction, though Elyoric knew that all he needed was a good hairbrush. Two simple bands of silver pierced the top of his right ear. His face had a strange serenity to it, and Elyoric found himself staring curiously at the sleeping boy, leaning forward _ever so slightly_ until he heard someone clear their throat at the tent entrance.

"He's still resting. Do you mind?"

Grinning, he stood up, and left the canvas shelter, making sure that Arixia heard his playful, not-so-subtle protests about being kicked out of his own tent.

The next morning, while Elyoric was enjoying his breakfast of bread and leftover stew, the sorceress joined him as he sat on a log near the remains of the previous night's bonfire. The camp was mostly deserted at the time, most of its inhabitants having left on patrol, or on scouting missions.

Warriv wasn't up yet, and neither was Akara. Kashya had left earlier that morning, saying something about a few quill rats coming too close for comfort near the camp's northern perimeter. Gheed had passed him a few moments earlier, winking at him as he made for the mess tent. Arixia was quiet, and the druid stopped eating as he looked at her curiously. He waited for her to speak, and when she said nothing for a few minutes he shrugged and went back to his meal.

"I never got to thank you, Eli. You know, for helping me find my brother."

He grunted, mopping up the last bits of stew with his bread and popping the whole thing into his mouth. Chewing, then swallowing, he didn't look at her.

"S'okay."

She made to get up, but he suddenly spoke again.

"You know, you never actually told me how you two ended up at those burial grounds…"

She stopped, and looked at him. Sighing, she was about to speak when her eyes suddenly widened.

"What are you doing out of bed?"

She was up and by his side in a flash. The boy smiled at Elyoric, patting his sister's arm affectionately before shaking his head and walking towards the druid. He looked much better, and he was dressed in an obviously new pair of clothes, courtesy of his sister no doubt. He took a seat next to the surprised man, and looked up at his sister expectantly. She looked a little concerned at first, then sighed again, before smiling exasperatedly and joining the two of them. Sitting down on the log next to her brother, she cleared her throat.

"I guess I should introduce you two, huh? Eli, this is my brother, Zhalnyn. Zhal, this is the guy I was telling you about. He helped me rescue you."

The boy shyly smiled at Elyoric, and for a moment the druid could only stare in surprise. Zhalnyn's eyes were _purple_. A brilliant amethyst, in fact, and he was aware of a few other details he had missed the previous night, the most prominent being the small flash of a familliar tattoo visible on the boy's collarbone.

"You're a priest of Rathma?"

Those violet eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing defiantly. Then, his shoulders squaring, he looked right into Elyoric's eyes, as if challenging him, before nodding determinedly. Arixia watched them, her posture suggesting that she would not hesitate to attack the druid if he reacted violently towards this new bit of information.

The moment of tension grew between the three of them, before the druid smiled calmly and turned away. Necromancy has always been a misunderstood branch of the magical arts, and many people considered the practices to be dark and evil. After all, many towns had been attacked by Fallen and the rest of their foul kin, and quite a number of people had come to associate the reviving spell the demons used with evil itself.

On top of that, the numerous undead creatures who served the darkness were not unlike the minions the priests of Rathma were known to summon. As a result, many often feared those who studied the art, treating them with hostile bigotry.

Not Elyoric, though. He knew that Nature did whatever Nature intended, and all Nature intended was to keep the Balance in check. The very fact that necromancers existed proved that they played a role in the Balance, and thus he was honour-bound to respect them.

Seeing as he meant no harm, Zhalnyn and his sister relaxed. Arixia broke the silence first.

"He's not my brother by blood, in case you were wondering. We sort of adopted each other in Kurast many years ago. Even so, I still love him more than anyone else in the world."

Zhalnyn smiled at this, scooting a little closer to her and laying his head on her shoulder. The green-eyed girl smiled at him, and began absent-mindly fussing with his hair.

"He certainly doesn't say much, does he?"

"He's mute." came her quiet answer.

"I see. Forgive me, I didn't mean anything by it…" he started lamely, shifting his icy blue gaze guiltily from the sorceress's face to that of her sibling.

"It's alright. Hey, Zhal, do you have Jasper on you?" she said brightly, shifting in her seat a little to get a better view of the boy. He grinned, then reached for a small earthen jar that was tied to a loop at his waist. The fair-haired boy undid the clasp holding the jar sealed, and tipped its contents into his palm. They were bones. Small, polished bones, probably that of a field mouse or other small rodent.

Elyoric looked in surprise at the two, but before he could voice his question the younger boy grinned at him. Suddenly, the ivory bones began to twitch, before jumping about the boy's palm, re-assembling themselves back into a perfect little skeleton. Elyoric uttered a small cry of astonishment, dropping his bowl on the well trodden grass of the clearing. Arixia giggled at this.

"If you think that's surprising, wait till you see what he does next."

"_**Now, Rixy, no need to scare him even more**_**…" **

The voice caused the druid to turn his head sharply back to the necromancer. He had placed the little skeleton-mouse on his shoulder, where it was rubbing its eye-socket with a skeletal paw. Elyoric actually felt his mouth hang open.

"_**Well. Thank you for rescuing me, master Eli. I'm truly grateful to you."**_

"Are you…are you talking to me? Through a _skeletal mouse_?"

It wasn't the brightest thing he could have said, and in fact it even sounded stupid to his own ears, but it was the only thing he could think of. The little skeleton opened its jaws and began to 'speak' in that strange voice again. It sounded to Elyoric as though a few people were whispering at the same time, and oddly enough as if they were doing it right in his ear. The purple-eyed boy smiled at him.

"_**Why yes I am, as a matter of fact. It's one of the tricks I've learnt using my necromancy. Basically, I channel a spirit and a tiny bit of my will into dead things. The spirit animates the bone, and my will keeps it obedient to me and me alone. I found out a few years ago that I can make the spirit talk as well, and I must say, the skill has proven to be most useful."**_

Now Arixia spoke.

"Don't worry, it took me a while to get used to it too. Jasper was our pet, from when we were kids." Then, seeing Elyoric's expression, she quickly added: "He died of perfectly natural causes."

That made the druid laugh. He continued chuckling as he picked up the bowl near his feet, setting it carefully by his side. Then, he turned, and looked at the two odd siblings.

"Okay, now, would you tell me how you-" he emphasised this by pointing to the sorceress, "wound up being held hostage by zombies in the Den of Evil, and you-" this time pointing at Zhalnyn, "wound up being buried alive?"

"_**You were held hostage by zombies?"**_

Arixia coughed nervously, suddenly finding her boots completely fascinating. The seconds ticked by.

"_**Rixy?"**_

"Alright, it's true. I was captured, but Eli managed to rescue me. To be honest, I'm not sure how I wound up there in the first place. All I remember was that we were at the burial grounds, and then a flash of light, and then…nothing. Do you remember what happened?"

The boy looked thoughtful.

"_**Well, like you said, we were at the graveyard, and those zombies were everywhere. I didn't actually see what happened, but all I know is one minute you were behind me, and the next you just…weren't."**_

His 'voice' had gone visibly softer as he reached the end of that sentence, and the boy's arms crossed over his abdomen, hugging them to himself. Arixia immediately reached out for him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug, and Elyoric surprised himself when he slid a little closer and patted the boy's arm awkwardly as well. The boy smiled at him as his sister buried her head in his shoulder, and the druid noted absent-mindedly that he had flecks of steel grey in his eyes.

The three of them sat in comfortable silence for a while, until Zhalnyn spoke.

"_**She wanted me to…to…she wanted me to raise her army for her. I tried, but the corpse I raised wound up trying to chop her arm off, and I guess that made her mad enough to stick me in that coffin and leave me to die**_**."**

A low sob escaped Arixia, whose face was still buried in her little brother's shoulder. He hugged her back, and soon enough she calmed down enough to look up with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry, it's just that...she…I mean…"

"It's okay. She's dead now, and you've got your brother back."

They watched as a few chickens squabbled noisily over a worm near a low wall for a while, when Zhalnyn spoke.

"**_That reminds me...I think I'll go get some breakfast now."_**

With that, Jasper jumped onto the boy's palm, where it abruptly crumbled into a pile of lifeless bones once more. Carefully storing the remains of the little rodent in the jar, the young necromancer stood up and left the clearing, leaving his sister and the druid behind.

"He's…something all right."

"That and more. He's got more than a few tricks up his sleeves."

Elyoric smiled at her words. For some strange reason, the two of them reminded him of the wolf pups he often played with as a child back in Scosglen. The memory of those furry little creatures, yapping as they wrestled him to the forest floor always made him feel warm inside. Snapping out of his little reverie, he found the sorceress looking at him strangely.

"You okay? You're kind of freaking me out with that grin of yours…"

"Just fine, thank you. Have you eaten yet?"

With that, he grabbed the bowl next to him and got to his feet, pulling her up as well. She grinned, making a comment on crazy druids and their abrupt changes in conversational topics, before both of them walked towards the mess tent together.

Neither of them noticed Gheed watching them leave.

* * *

A/N: Woot woot Chappie 3 is DONE!! Sorry if this chapter is a little action-free, I promise the next one won't be quite as...passive (?)

Review and tell me what you think, people!!


	4. The Tree of Inifuss

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just doing this for the kicks.

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It had been a few days since Zhalnyn joined the camp.

Since he _was_ still recovering, Arixia had decided to remain with him, and without his 'apprentice' Elyoric soon found that monster slaying just wasn't the same, so he too opted to stay in camp till the boy was feeling better. He spent his time working on his spells instead.

Zhalnyn remained quiet most of the time, preferring to let his sister do the talking for the both of them. However, when it was just the three of them in Elyoric's tent, Jasper would make an appearance, and they would laugh and share stories about their day.

The rogues seemed to really warm up to him, which was probably due to the fact that he was the youngest person in camp, and therefore still a child in their eyes. Either that, or they were simply smitten by his adorable looks and quiet manner, of course. Even Kashya seemed to subtly soften up whenever the boy was around.

The food seemed to be doing good for the two siblings as well, for they now had a healthy glow to their complexions, and some meat on their bones.

Most of the camp had been quite understanding when they found out about the boy being a necromancer, which was proof that blind prejudice had not spread to every corner of Entsteig just yet. Only Gheed seemed to voice any disaproval, and soon even he changed his mind.

Elyoric had yet to see any other displays of Zhalnyn's necromancy, aside from the summoning of Jasper, that is. He had to admit though, once the shock of watching the bones animate themselves had worn off, the little rodent was kind of…_cute_.

It was twilight when Akara approached the three of them.

"I have had a vision that I must share with you." She said, looking at them pleadingly.

"There is but one Horadrim mage, schooled in the most arcane history and lore who can help us comprehend the Evils we are facing. His name is Deckard Cain, and I have seen that he lies trapped in Tristram. You will need to recover a very special scroll that tells of an ancient magic, a magic that would help us reach him. I tell you this because I have faith in all of your abilites." She said pointedly, her grey eyes moving towards all three of them.

Elyoric nodded, listening intently as she explained more about the scroll and how to find it, and soon he, Arixia and Zhalnyn were headed towards their respective tents.

A quick bath was the order of the moment, followed by a meal, and nothing would deter them from their goal.

Later, fresh and carefully holding a tray containing warm bread, meat and a tin cup of cold, clear water each, they found themselves joined around the campfire by Charsi and Warriv, where they spent an enjoyable evening listening to the travelling merchant tell them stories about the wonders he had encountered in the Sands of Aranoch.

Soon, seeing as it was getting late, and the three of them bade everyone good night before retiring to their tents.

The next day, the sun had barely risen when they assembled near the waypoint. A quick visit to Charsi prior to that had ensured that their armour and weapons were at peak condition, and Akara had ensured they each had a decent supply of potions and scrolls.

Just as they were about to step on the enchanted pad, Paige came running towards them, the rogue captain striding behind. The archer was wearing the standard rogue armour, though a strange patch of dark green material had been sewed into the sleeve of her right arm. Kashya cleared her throat, her usual scowl now replaced by a small smirk.

"Paige is now a mercenary for your party, as you requested, druid."

With that, she turned and left the four of them. At first, a curious silence hung in the air, and then Arixia spoke.

"So _this_ was your deal with her?"

"Yes. Paige is an excellent addition to our happy little party, wouldn't you agree?"

The rogue smiled, adjusting the quiver of arrows on her back as she moved to stand by Zhalnyn, who looked happily at them. He fumbled for the jar, hastily animating Jasper and causing the redhead to stare at him, a little bug-eyed as he began to 'speak'.

"_**I think it's a great idea. The more the merrier, right?"**_

"Then it's settled. Come on, we've got a lot of ground to cover today."

With that, the four of them stepped onto the ensorceled platform, which teleported them instantly to the Cold Plains. They began the hike to the Stony Field. Before long, they encountered a band of Carvers near an abandoned house, the blue-skinned demons being a sturdier variant of Fallen.

Uttering their strange, chattering war-cries, the creatures stalked towards them, waving scmitars and clubs menacingly. Paige had the ability to enchant her arrows with ice, a skill that proved most invaluable. She hung back, providing cover fire while the three of them rushed forward to meet the demons head on.

Elyoric blocked the first strike, whipping out his sword and hacking the creature's arm clean off at the elbow. Dark blood spurted out in a horrid arc as the demon squealed, clutching the useless stump before it soon succumbed to its injuries. This seemed to enrage the remaining imps, their slashes becoming more and more frenzied.

Meanwhile, Arixia had waved her hand, sending an invisible wall of force hurtling towards a few of the Carvers, knocking them back with a crunch that signaled she had managed to break a few bones. The demons landed a few yards away, and one of them didn't get up, lying on its belly while blood rushed from its broken mouth.

Suddenly, the creature's carcass twitched, and before their eyes its skeleton began to literally tear itself away from the body, bony fingers scrabbling in the dirt, ripping through skin, tearing away various arteries and veins as it struggled to kneel before standing up slowly.

The entire battle entered a temporary ceasefire as they all watched the grisly spectacle.

The muscle and facia slid off it, as though they had been scoured by an invisible brush, and within moments the now-gleaming white bones stood at attention, an axe and a round shield held in its hands.

Without warning, the skeleton suddenly charged towards Zhalnyn, where it cleaved off the head of the surprised demon closest to him.

That seemed to break the spell, and the battle re-commenced in full swing. The boy was pretty good with a dagger, and the small shield he wore on his left arm was put to good use, fending off the vicious attacks of the creatures. At some point in the battle, he had summoned two more of those skeletal warriors.

They continued like this for a while, each slashing or casting a spell, ducking and weaving around the monsters. The sound of metal on metal ringing in his ears as a Carver blocked his sword with its own blade, Elyoric swore silently to himself before he suddenly danced around the creature, the surprise move confusing the demon long enough for him to land a fatal slash down its back.

Soon, the battle was over, the ground littered with the corpses of the Carvers. The druid rubbed his aching arm, walking over to check on his companions. Arixia nursed a small cut on her left forearm, and Zhalnyn was sporting a nasty bruise on the side of his head from where a club had managed to hit its mark.

Besides that, they looked fine, and Paige jogged up to them once she had killed the last of the stray blue-skinned demons. Once they had healed up and retrieved all the spoils of their victory, they headed onward.

The three skelatons stayed by Zhalnyn, forming a defensive ring around the boy. The young necromancer's minions proved to be quite a useful addition to the team, and although they weren't exceptionally bright, they served as an excellent distraction, drawing the attention of monsters away from the party and allowing for easier kills.

They walked for a few hours, running into a few more monsters every now and then, and pretty soon they had reached the Stony Field.

Since it was nearing noon, and they had been trekking for quite a while now, they decided that a quick trip back to camp would be wise. They needed to re-stock their supply of potions, as well as sell off some of the items they had gained from the creatures they had slain.

Arixia created the portal, and they were soon seated comfortably in the mess tent, digging in to a meal of chicken and cold cheeses.

Zhalnyn's minions waited outside the tent quietly, earning nothing more than a few stares from the rogues who happened to walk by. Once the boy exited the large canvas shelter, they quickly assembled themselves around him once more.

Akara had healed their wounds, and Elyoric sold the short sword he had been using the whole time in favour of a finely crafted axe. After the meal, and a trip to Charsi who did some quick repairs, they returned to the Stony Field.

In the distance, they could see the rugged facade of the cliffs. Somehere along the rocky wall was the entrance to the Underground Passage, beyond which was the Dark Wood.

They kept close to the crag, until they came upon the crumbling ruins of an abandoned farm. Suddenly, they found themselves ambushed by a group of Dark Stalkers and Hungry Dead.

The corrupted demon-rogues obviously retained some tiny memory of their skills from when they were living, because they used bows and arrows with deadly precision.

The four of them managed to take cover behind a low wall, Arixia and Paige firing bolts of lightning and ice-arrows respectively whenever they could. Elyoric and Zhalnyn stayed hidden, and when the last of the demons fell, they leaped up and charged towards the hoard of zombies that were shuffling towards their hiding place.

The axe was put to good use by the druid, the heavy blade lopping off limbs like a hot knife through butter. He raised it over his head, before bringing it down on one of the zombie's necks, then reversed the downward momentum of his weapon with a twist of his body and finishing the creature adjacent in one elegant motion.

Zhalnyn leaped backward as he dodged an attack, his dagger carving the monster's outstretched fingers. It moaned furiously, taking a step forward in an effort to rip his face off, and the boy parried the swipe with his shield.

Then, he dropped into a half crouch as a bolt of electricity arced through the air, hitting the decaying monster before him square in the chest, knocking it off its rotting feet and depositing it in a heap a few yards away. Smiling his thanks to his sister, the boy raced off to help one of his minions.

The battle was quickly coming to a close.

Arixia whirled her staff, the heavy piece of wood cracking smartly against the last zombie's head, where it staggered back. Before it could recover, a couple of arrows embedded themselves in its skull in quick succession, and the creature went down permanently. Paige walked over, smiling at the sorceress as she picked up the quiver of arrows the monster had dropped and added it to her own stock.

"I'd say that we seem to be getting better at this, wouldn't you?"

The rogue's comment made the druid chuckle as he approached them, the young necromancer by his side. They spent a few moments scouring the ground for any more loot, and finding none, decided to continue.

Soon enough, they reached the mouth of the cave, and gingerly entered the creepy tunnel. The abrupt lack of light was a little disorientating, to say the least.

Arixia conjured a fireball which bathed their immediate vicinity in a warm, golden light. Elyoric led the way, followed by the sorceress, Zhalnyn and his minions, and Paige bringing up the rear. Their footsteps echoed along the cold stone walls as they walked deeper and deeper into the dingy passageway, and the sound of their breathing seemed to be amplified in the dark cavern.

A heavy stillness permeated the air, as though they were entering some sort of holy sanctum instead of a monster-filled hole in the ground, which made them slightly jumpy.

However, they made their way through the cave without too much difficulty, Paige's Inner Sight helping them see any enemies in the gloomy recesses of the place easily. By the time they had reached the Dark Wood, it was already late afternoon. Stepping out from the dank pit they had been in for the better part of a few hours, grateful for the feel of warm sunshine on their backs once more, the four of them warily surveyed their surroundings.

Trees of various sizes grew in every direction, yellowing leaves clinging on to dry, twisted branches for dear life. Cautiously, they made their way through the place, keeping their eyes and ears open for the slightest sign of monsters.

They encountered a few Carvers, not to mention skeletal archers, and the combined efforts of the four of them soon made short work of all the creatures. Along the way, they came across the Dark Woods waypoint, which they activated.

The sun had begun to set when they finally saw it.

They had just defeated a nest of Blood Hawks, the demons filling the air with the horrible screeching of their death throes. The ancient tree stood taller than the rest, its bare branches clawing the twilight sky like the bony fingers of some old crone.

Its massive trunk was mottled with moss, the dark brown of the tree bark occasionally peeking through the greens and greys of different hues. It throbbed with an unnatural aura, something the druid felt more than anyone else. As he was about to examine the strange tree, a sudden roar behind him instantly grabbed his attention.

A massive Brute stood a short way from them, baring its teeth and pounding the ground threateningly with its huge fists.

The four of them instantly went into battle stances. Paige jumped back, firing arrows at the creature rapidly while Arixia sent a barrage of large, explosive fireballs hurtling towards the beast. However, the rogue soon cursed loudly when she realised that she had used up all her arrows in the battles before this.

Instead, she whipped out a small dagger from her boot, knowing that the small blade was her only chance of defending herself now. The creature was surprisingly fast for its tremendous bulk, nimbly evading most of the projectiles.

It jumped forward, bringing down its fists in a blow which immediately reduced one of Zhalnyn's minions to dust. Elyoric uttered a war cry as he charged towards the creature, swinging his axe in a wide arc. He closed the distance between them quickly, diving into a roll under the monster and kicking up once he had reached behind it, then chopping wildly at the beast's back.

Warm blood spurted on him, and it turned in a second, ignoring Arixia's fireballs, and lashed out its muscular arm.

The move caught the druid by surprise, and he was sent flying painfully through the trees. Seeing this, Zhalnyn suddenly drew back, his eyes sliding shut in concentration. He then whipped out his hand, and all of a sudden the Brute seemed to weaken before them, its blows becoming sluggish as though all the strength had left its body. Whatever he did, it seemed to have taken a lot out of him, for the boy slid to the ground, barely conscious.

Paige ran to his side, dragging him away from the fray towards the Tree of Inifuss while Arixia continued hurling fireballs at the beast. However, her stores of magical energies were soon exhausted, and she too fell to her knees.

Although the Brute had taken a substantial amount of damage, evident from the many arrows that stuck to its burned hide, and the rivers of blood that ran down along its head and back, it still had enough fight left in it to finish the three of them off.

It took a step forward, dragging its bloodied fists through the dirt when a large blur suddenly burst through the trees. It slammed into the giant, knocking it against a nearby oak and the three found themselves watching as a large wolf-like creature began to attack the beast. Roars filled the air as raw muscle went up against raw muscle, tooth against tooth, the two creatures going at each other savagely, claws scratching whatever they could.

The carnage continued for a while, the two of them slamming into different trees, hurling logs and whatever else they could find at each other. Then, in a quick move, the wolf-beast managed to pin the Brute down.

Furiously, it snarled as it ripped into the flesh around the monster's neck with its jaws: large, razor-sharp teeth tearing away chunks of meat. Soon, the wild thrashing of the giant stopped, and the wolf-thing wearily climbed of the corpse.

It headed towards them, blood dripping steadily down the side of its face. As it approaced the trio, huddled near the ancient tree, the creature began to change. Its long, powerful limbs grew shorter, more human-like in their appearance, and the dark, bloodied silver-grey fur seemed to retract into its skin. The beast's skull visibly shrank, its muzzle and bloodstained jaws becoming shorter and shorter, the teeth losing their pointed edges and becoming flatter as the seconds ticked by. They stared in shock as they realised that the beast had transformed into a man.

Elyoric.

The druid stumbled forward, coughing as he spat up bits of blood. He bent over, putting his hands on his knees as he began to breathe heavily through his mouth. Then, after a while, his gasps evened out, and he looked up wearily at them.

The battle had really taken its toll on him. A particularly nasty gash was visible on his right shoulder, the cut running all the way to the middle of his back. His hands were covered in the creature's blood, as was his mouth, which he wiped on his good shoulder.

His face was a mess: numerous scratches could be seen on it, and his cheek oozed warm blood steadily from a deep cut the beast had managed to leave on him. An angry river of dark red ran down the side of his head, dripping on his armour as well.

His ankle felt as though it were twisted, and he uttered a small cry as a fresh wave of pain shot through him when he tried to put his weight on it. Still, he smiled at their bug-eyed expressions, wincing as he did so.

"Shape-shifting." He said simply, as if that explained everything. Silence rang between them. And then, _everyone_ started talking at once.

"Are you insane?"

"What were you thinking? You could have been killed!"

"_**That was amazing**_!"

"Here, have a potion. No, have two!"

"_**I've never seen anything like that before in my life!"**_

"Honestly!"

And before he could blink, Elyoric found himself surrounded by all three of them, fussing over him as though he were a small child.

He almost chuckled as the sorceress mumbled to herself like a mother hen, uncorking the bottle of crimson potion and gently putting it to his lips, but the sharp look she gave him quickly silenced any laughter that might have escaped his lips.

Zhalnyn carefully put his arm around the druid's waist, helping him stand while Paige stood by Arixia, another uncorked bottle of the healing potion ready and waiting in her hands.

He had been the most badly damaged of them all in the fight, the others suffering nothing more serious than a few bumps and scrapes. A few moments later, when the worst of their injuries had been dealt with, they made their way back to the strange Tree of Inifuss.

They spent the next few moments searching the tree, their efforts made a little harder by the fact that the sun had long since set.

All of a sudden, Paige called out triumphantly as she withdrew her hand from a hole in the wood, pulling out a loosely rolled piece of bark parchment.

It certainly didn't _look_ all that impressive, but they all felt the faint thrum of magic bound within the paper. Arixia carefully placed it in her inventory. Grinning wearily, the druid pulled out a town portal scroll, and soon the four of them were safely back in camp.

They slept like logs that night.

* * *

A/N: Enjoy! R & R please, there's a warm plate of cookies in it for you..


	5. Cain's Rescue

Disclaimer: Blah blah not mine blah blah.

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Recovering the Bark Scroll had made Akara very happy indeed. The parchment had been written using a system of runes all but forgotten in this day and age, and she spent a whole week deciphering the ancient text. The four of them used the free time to work on their various skills, occasionally venturing out into the Blood Moor to do some training alone. Arixia had discarded her old staff, choosing instead to use a new one with metal-tipped ends she had acquired from one of the beasts in the wilderness. Zhalnyn began to practice his curses, seeing how he had almost fainted from the last time he had used one, and the boy made wonderful progress in the short amount of time.

Soon, Akara approached them excitedly, smiling as she handed them a piece of parchment with the translation from the Bark Scroll.

She explained that in order for the spell to work, they needed to activate a special portal that had been constructed by the mages of old as an escape route from Tristram. The thing was, they were to activate the portal in _reverse_, so that it would lead _to _the town, instead of away from it. The elder had carefully marked out the symbols they would need to touch to do just that, and soon the party was ready to go.

Stepping onto the waypoint, they found themselves in the Stony Field an instant later. It was a good thing they had run into it earlier, for it certainly saved them a lot of hiking.

They didn't encounter anything more dangerous that a small flock of Foul Crows at first. The hell-birds were actually pretty weak creatures, the real danger being their sentient nests which could spawn new units in a matter of seconds. Paige had killed the beasts with an almost childlike glee, freezing them in mid-air and giggling as they shattered on the ground. Her happy mood was contagious, and the four of them soon found themselves laughing merrily, sharing jokes as they hiked through the place.

They had been walking for a few hours now, having had a little run-in with a small group of Vile Hunters a while back. The demons had met a swift end at the hands of Elyoric and Zhalnyn, the latter proudly demonstrating his new-found cursing capabilites as he blinded the shrieking monsters without so much as a stumble, rendering their archery useless. The druid had then made short work of them with his axe, earning himself a small amount of gold and few potions for his trouble. Occasionally, the girls would take a turn at slaying the monsters they encountered, Paige's arrows and Arixia's various spells finding their targets with deadly accuracy. The rogue had been practising some new arrow skills, for she could now enchant them with fire as well as ice. However, upon approaching the five stone pillars that would lead them to the fallen town of Tristram, the jovial mood of the foursome faded considerably.

A Carver General with bright blue skin stood in the clearing between the enchanted rocks, surrounded by a small army of his regular brethren. The demon was slightly bigger than the ordinary Carvers, and he wore a gory chain of human ears around his neck, no doubt trophies from the many heroes he had slain prior to that. The other imps were chanting a name, 'Rakanishu', which the four took to be the higher-ranking demon's name. He held a scmitar in his hand, which he brandished angrily, the blade cutting through the air with a low swish. His minions raced towards the four of them, their war-cries a harsh cacophany of wails and shrieks, screaming for their blood.

Before the blue-skinned demons could reach them however, Elyoric lifted his hands, focusing his energies before bellowing: "_Ea Ridh' Iruvica_!", causing the ground to rumble omniously before abruptly cracking as pockets of red-hot magma spewed forth onto the creatures. Their screams of pain filled the air as Paige let loose a volley of arrows, hitting the demons that had dodged the druid's fiery assault.

Arixia joined the fray in a heartbeat, slender fingers sending bolts of pure electricty crackling through the air, leaving a few Carvers twitching on the ground as the last bit of life bled from their carcasses. Zhalnyn raced through the throng, slicing at the furious demons with his dagger as his skeletal minions surrounded him, hacking away at the creatures as well.

The Carver General watched them, his beady yellow eyes narrowing as the four of them all but massacered his army. Then, without warning, he suddenly raised the crude but razor sharp blade in his hand and charged towards the person closest to him, in this case being the young necromancer. Zhalnyn, preoccupied as he was with the last of the demons in front of him, barely had time to notice Rakanishu's approach. He turned a fraction of a second too late, and the demon jumped up as it angrily slashed at him. The cut connected, causing a soft exclamation of surprise to escape his lips as the boy crumpled to the ground, a hand weakly pressing against the rapidly growing patch of dark red on his mid-section.

Time stopped.

Arixia seemed to go into shock, and for a moment the girl stared dumbly at the form of her brother lying on the ground. The demon-general smirked at this, and fixed his cold yellow eyes on her. He stalked towards the girl, who had sunk to her knees, her face a deathly pale mask. Wide green eyes stared glassily at the boy, before they suddenly snapped to the grinning demon that was coming closer and closer towards her. A heart-wrenching scream burst through her lips, the sound making Rakanishu's steps momentarily falter, before the sorceress's eyes turned a glowing white.

Above her, dark clouds suddenly swirled into existance, throwing the once sunny day into shadow. The ultramarine-skinned demon looked up, his amber eyes widening as a hail of ice suddenly rained down on him. The wind screamed all around them, making Arixia's hair fly crazily in every direction as chunks of frost, as sharp as any blade whistled towards the demon. He tried dodging, but in moments a brilliantly shining spear of ice had impaled his back, followed quickly by a few more that pierced his head and torso, his dark blood running down the diamond-like lances as his broken corpse was continuously pummelled by the relentless blocks of ice. Fingers of lightning shot from his form, the bolts of pure white energy randomly whizzing through the air before harmlessly fizzling out.

The storm raged on, growing wilder and wilder with each passing second, and Paige had no choice but to seek shelter behind some rocks. Using a spell which bent the wind around him into a defensive matrix, which harmlessly deflected most of the larger projectiles, the druid crawled over to the still form of the boy.

Elyoric quickly examined Zhalnyn, where he found a weak pulse. Thanking every god and spirit he could think of, he hastily uncorked a bottle of healing potion, before he gently pulled the boy into a sitting position against him and poured it over the gaping wound in his abdomen. The potion wasn't much, but it did manage to shrink the wound and slow the bleeding, and another soon closed the injury. The boy's torso was soaked in dark red, and although the healing potions could repair skin and muscle, they weren't able to restore his lost blood.

He was dangerously anaemic.

Unless they could get him to Akara soon, his chances of survival were next to nothing. Cursing, Elyoric tried to use another healing potion on the boy, hoping that it would keep him alive long enough for them to return to camp. The druid hugged the boy close, his heart hammering with worry as he allowed the wind barrier to envelope the two of them. Meanwhile, Arixia's hail storm was finally starting to let up, the dark clouds dispersing as the chunks of ice stopped assailing the bloody mess that was now the Carver General's body. She looked at Elyoric, her eyes returning to their regular shade of green, the tears streaming down her face uncontrollably.

Paige, hands bleeding from her attempts at defending herself against the icy daggers that had sliced through the air a moment ago, poked her head up from the rock she had been forced to hide behind. Ignoring her own injuries, the rogue ran to Arixia's side, drawing the sorceress into a hug as well. Then, looking at the druid cradling the boy in his arms, her eyes widened before she pulled out a town portal scroll, wincing slightly as she did so.

Akara had been shocked, to say the least. The elder didn't say a word as Elyoric explained what happened, her mouth setting itself into a thin line as he spoke. When he had finished, she gave him a small, reassuring smile and told him that everything was going to be alright. She had placed a spell on the unconcious boy, making him levitate a few inches off the bed he had been lying in, bathed in a soft white glow as his body healed. The High Priestess assured them that he would be perfectly fine in a few days time, but for the moment, however, Tristram was definitely out of the question for him. Arixia had been adamant about staying by his side at first, but Paige managed to convince her to change her mind.

Soon, healed of their injuries, the three stepped back through the portal, where they now stood before the five pillars. Touching the glyphs in the order that Akara had indicated, they stepped back as a red portal spun into existance before them.

Taking a deep breath, they entered the vortex, stumbling upon the banks of a river that ran along the south side of the ruined town of Tristram. The trip was slightly disorientating, though their feelings of nausea soon passed. Arixia was quiet, her expression grim as she surveyed their surroundings. They seemed to be alone at the moment, though the very air seemed to throb with evil. It was a strange sensation, as though they were suddenly weighed down by something.

Still, they knew that they had a job to do in the wretched remains of the once-great town. Passing a carcass of a cow that had long begun to decompse, hands clamped firmly over the lower portion of their faces as they did so, the three of them began exploring the ruins. Most of the buildings were burnt to the ground, the crumbling walls blackened with soot and ash. Mutilated corpses of people who had failed to flee the town, charred bodies missing arms and legs lay here and there. The town seemed to be silent, but when they passed by a still-intact wall they suddenly found themselves surrounded by a veritable army of Carvers and Returned, the skeletal warriors armed with spiked clubs and shields.

Elyoric took the impact of the first blow with his shield, grunting as his axe connecting with the demon's side. The blue-skinned creature squealed, and a quick flick of his wrist made sure that the axe's blade was soon firmly lodged in its skull. He tugged at it, the cold metal pulling away from the imp's head with a disgusting wet sound. Paige's fire-arrows flew through the air, hitting one Carver in the eye, and another in the neck. The rogue fired her arrows with deadly accuracy, the shafts raining death upon the numerous demons which ran up to the trio. Arixia took care of the skeletons, flinging spheres of icy blue magic which froze them where they stood, the yellowing bones shattering as she put her staff to good use.

The sorceress seemed to hit harder, her blows being a tiny bit more vicious than was really necessary. It was obvious that she wanted nothing better than to find the sage quickly and rescue him, and return to camp to check on her brother. They fought their way to the west side of town, where an awful moan suddenly stopped them in their tracks.

Stepping out from behind a blackened wall, a truly horrifying figure lumbered towards them, clawed fingers reaching out as it approached. The thing appeared to have been a man at some point, though it didn't look like any undead creature they had ever seen before. The poor soul had been cursed, forced to remain alive as his very flesh decayed upon his bones, until he had lost whatever remained of his humanity and become no better than the mindless creatures that served the Prime Evils.

His ragged breath escaping through a putrid, festering hole in his neck, blackened teeth embedded in even more disgusting gums visible where the skin on his face had rotted off, the man-corpse slowly made its way towards them. The three of them exchanged a look, then nodded before charging towards him, weapons held high. The only way to release him from his torment would be to end his life, and looking at the abomination he was forced to become, they knew that death would be most appreciated.

He was surprisingly strong, ignoring the many enchanted arrows that Paige fired at him, not even slowing down as shaft after shaft pierced his decaying body. Elyoric used his fissure spell again, and the magma that burst out from the ground caused the creature to howl in pain, quickening it space slightly. Arixia hurled fireball after fireball at him, the globes exploding on impact, raining burning hot embers in every direction. This only made the monster angrier, its fearsome cries of fury chilling their bones, yet the three continued their relentless barrage of arrows and spells. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the cursed creature sank to its knees at last, rivers of blood mixing with the charred skin of its torso, multiple arrows sticking up from its head.

Wearily, the trio downed their red potions, and Paige added the arrows the monster had dropped to her own depleted stock. Cautiously, they made their way to the town square, running into a few Carvers that they easily took care of. Then, in a wooden cage suspended a few feet off the ground by an overly complicated looking set of pulleys and rope, was the man they had come to rescue. He was thin, his snowy hair sparse upon his head. The man was dressed in robes that may have been white at some point in time, though the heavy garment had turned a dull grey now, probably from the all soot and ash they were surrounded in.

Cain seemed to be asleep, or rather unconcious to be more precise. Clearing his throat, Elyoric called out to him, and it took a few more tries before the elder man woke up. Arixia used her telekinesis to gently pull the cage down, the invisible force making small pebbles levitate around her. A few strikes of Elyoric's axe soon shattered the rusty lock on the cage door, and the old man gratefully wobbled out. He thanked them profusely, and making a series of quick gestures with his hand while muttering a few strange words, created a portal that led back to camp.

The three of them exchanged looks, impressed, before they stepped through the swirling vortex as well.

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A/N: Yay! I felt bad about taking Zhalnyn out of the picture, but it had to be done. Come on people, review!!


	6. The Countess

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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He remembered being _warm._

He remembered a few other things as well, the thoughts floating lazily through the inky blackness that was his subconscious. The strange taste of metal in his mouth. A peculiar sticky wetness between his fingers, and a faint cry that oddly made him think of his sister reverberating somewhere in the background. He remembered being surrounded by ice at some point, which was strange because he knew that he had grown up in tropical Kurast, and as far as he could remember he had never even _seen_ snow before. He remembered feeling the biting chill upon his bare skin, the cold seeping through his armour.

_His armour._

Something had happened, something important, and it involved his armour. Or maybe it had been his dagger. The memories flitted through his head, random thought after random thought, each vanishing before he could grasp one long enough to make any actual sense of them, only to be replaced by another that evaded him once more till he finally gave up trying. He didn't really care at the moment anyway. He was content to just _be._

Still, he _distinctly_ remembered being warm.

It had been nearly three days since they returned from Tristram. Leaving the rogue captain and the High Priestess to see to Cain's needs, the three of them had all but flown to the boy's side.

Arixia had been mad with worry at first, but there was nothing she could do but wait. Akara gently explained to the panic-stricken girl that regenerating the amount of blood her brother had lost took time, and she soon calmed down a bit. Still, a system was soon implemented. One of them would watch over the boy as his body healed itself, propped up with pillows, while the others would leave to train or go about their respective business. If he woke up, they were to inform Akara immediately.

As of now, the green-eyed sorceress and Paige, along with a couple of other rogues had decided to investigate some mysterious ruins they had found in the Black Marsh, where a moldy old tome in the Stony Field had hinted of a great treasure that lay there, supposedly guarded by an evil countess of some sort. It was nearing twilight, and they still hadn't returned.

It was Elyoric's turn to watch the boy, and to be honest he was getting sore from sitting on the low stool for so long. To make matters worse, it was raining, and although he enjoyed the soothing sound of raindrops pattering against the canvas above him, he didn't appreciate the chill that seemed to permeate the whole tent. Frankly, the black top and grey slacks he was wearing weren't terribly warm, but they were the thickest of his regular clothes. Wearily standing up, he padded towards the sleeping form of Zhalnyn, carefully sitting near him and causing the mattress to dip slightly. On the side table next to the bed was a small metal jug of cool water and a tin cup, plus a pile of bones that Elyoric now recognised as Jasper. Arixia had probably put him there in case her brother woke up, and he had to smile at the gesture.

Zhalnyn had stopped glowing, which Akara had smilingly told him was a good sign, and the druid noted that there was definitely _some_ colour in his cheeks now. His shirt had been removed, probably by one of the rogues, and bandages could be seen crisscrossing his arms and lower torso.

His tattoo peeked out from under a few strips of the medicated gauze, strange, curling patterns of midnight blue, in stark contrast against his pale skin, curving gently across a good portion of the left side of his chest. The druid traced the tattoo with his eyes, marveling at the intricacy of the lines, surprised a little by the slight tingle that shot down his spine as he did so. The dark blue design had a strange, compelling quality to it, brimming with a strange magic that he didn't quite understand. Without meaning to, he leaned forward, calloused fingers reaching forward to touch the peculiar pattern when a voice weakly called out.

"_**Don't.**_"

Snapping his hand back guiltily, he looked up to stare into half-lidded amethyst eyes. Jasper was sitting on the side table, though the little mouse seemed as though he was having trouble keeping himself together at the moment. He kept twitching, and once or twice he would drop his little head as though he was tired. Suddenly, the bones wobbled, before abruptly collapsing as the boy uttered a moan.

Slowly, he reached forward and grabbed the blanket that covered his legs, drawing the thin material up to his chin and closing his eyes. Elyoric made to get up, but turned back a second later. The boy had extended his bandaged arm, and pale fingers were now loosely wrapped around the druid's wrist in a weak grip. Sitting back down again, the dark-haired man quietly spoke.

"I have to tell Akara you're awake."

Jasper's skull rattled on the table, little jaws opening as the word whispered itself in Elyoric's ear.

"_**Cold**_."

The boy didn't say anything more, instead grimacing a little as he tugged at the older man's arm until Elyoric finally uttered a sigh, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and lay parallel to him. A small grin stretched across the fair-haired boy's features, and he curled around the larger form of the druid, burrowing his face into the other's warm shoulder. Not knowing what else to do, Elyoric awkwardly put an arm around him, his hand settling on the younger boy's head. Feeling a little foolish, he started stroking the white-blonde locks, just like he had seen Arixia do. This made the boy snuggle closer, and soon he realised that the young necromancer had fallen asleep against him. The rain beating a steady rhythm against the grey canvas, the druid made up his mind. Akara could wait a little while longer.

Arixia uttered an oath, hastily slamming her staff against another corrupted rogue. The demon screamed as its skull shattered in the impact of the blow, before it slumped over, dead.

They had managed to reach the final level of the Forgotten Tower, and were now locked in fierce combat with a small band of Vile Archers that had suddenly ambushed them around a corner. Paige and Gaile, another rogue, hung back while sending a steady stream of arrows, both regular and ice-enchanted into the fray, while Arixia and another member of the sisterhood by the name of Abhaya fought their way through the throng using close-quarter combat.

The rogue had hung her bow behind her back, and instead was using a hand axe she had found earlier to hack her way through her foes. The rogues, although famed for their skills with a bow and arrow, still devoted time to melee combat practice, which was clearly demonstrated by Abhaya who parried blows and expertly danced out of the way as the demons tried madly to cut her to pieces.

Spinning into a crouch, the brown-haired rogue slashed at the last demon's legs, earning a scream as the metal sank into exposed flesh. Standing up, she grinned as she picked up the two quiver of arrows her kill had dropped, adding one to her own stock and tossing the other towards Paige, who smilingly caught it. Once they were sure that nobody was hurt, the group made their way onward. They encountered a few more monsters, but a few enchanted arrows and lightning bolts soon took care of them.

The dimly lit stone corridors seemed to stretch on forever, one passageway opening up into another room, another room opening up into another passageway. The air was stale and musty, as if it too had died along with everything else in the desolate tower.

Stopping in a small room that seemed to be a study, judging from the ancient bookcases that lined the wall, and the small, dust-covered desk with piles of yellowing parchment on it, the foursome decided to pause a while to catch their breath.

Igniting the torches that were hung on the walls, warm yellow light filled the small room, giving it an oddly cozy feel. Arixia leaned against the wall, a bottle of blue potion half-drunk in her hands as she absent-mindedly studied her comrades.

Standing a little way off from her, Paige was talking to Abhaya, holding an arrow in her hand, explaining something which the sorceress couldn't quite hear. She watched with mild interest as the rogue took the arrow from her red haired sister, her brown eyes narrowing as she muttered something and concentrated. At first, nothing happened, but then thin fingers of fire suddenly began to envelope the slender shaft , struggling to remain alight before abruptly vanishing. Abhaya stared open mouthed at the arrow in her hand, while Paige simply grinned, cheerily clapping her on the back.

Meanwhile, Gaile was rifling through the bookcases, curiously picking up a large, dusty tome every now and then, studying it for a moment, then returning it back on the shelf. Once in a while, she would find a town portal scroll or a scroll of identify, the latter distinguished by a seal of red and gold wax, which she would pocket. The ginger-haired rogue wiped her dusty fingers on her armour, her sky-blue eyes crinkling as she turned to smile at the sorceress. After a while, when their stamina had returned, they headed on once more.

As they walked, they were suddenly set upon by members of the Blood Clan, the horrific half-goat creatures wielding heavy polearms with surprising agility. Arixia jumped back as one of the creatures swung the blade it was carrying at her, the metal harmlessly hitting the stone floor with a bone-jarring clang. She raised her hand, sending a large ball of fire which exploded in the abomination's face before it dropped to the ground, the sickening smell of burnt flesh filling her nostrils.

Paige managed to freeze one of the beasts using her Ice Arrow, and a second arrow from Gaile shattered it before it could recover. The two worked as a team in this way, one freezing the monsters while the other shattered them, and soon they had managed to kill a number of the goat men.

Abhaya mercilessly hacked at the few that surrounded her, managing to land a few fatal slashes on the beasts. Then, suddenly, one of the creatures swung his polearm right at her head, and it was all she could do to twist to one side as the blade sliced through the air towards her.

The creature was smart, however, and before the rogue could get out of range he had twisted the weapon in his hand, slamming the side of her head with the flat of his blade like a baseball bat. Abhaya uttered a cry as she was sent sailing across the corridor, her axe clattering loudly to the floor as she slammed painfully into the opposite wall.

A large, angry bruise began forming on her temple. Almost instantly, Paige and Gaile began raining arrows on the beast, while Arixia rushed over to her side, uncorking a bottle of red potion and handing it to the other woman who gratefully downed it. Seeing that she was fine now, the sorceress turned her attention back to the few remaining monsters, flinging bolts of lightning at them, the other two rogue's arrows singing through the air before embedding themselves in various parts of the creature's anatomy. Leaving the last monster gurgling in his own blood, they each drank a bottle of crimson potion, the brew instantly healing their many scrapes and bruises.

Their footsteps echoed along the dingy passageway, and Arixia had to suppress a shudder as she thought about the virgins who must have walked the same route to the countess.

It was pure _madness_.

Virgin blood _did_ have some minor magical properties, she knew that much, but to think that someone like the countess would actually believe it could grant everlasting beauty was completely absurd. It was nothing more than superstition, and she wondered what kind of person the countess had been if she allowed herself to believe such nonsense.

She soon found out.

Entering a large chamber, the four of them found themselves face to face with the evil countess herself, who cackled maniacally at their arrival, surrounded by a group of her minions. Instantly, they all went into battle stances before charging forward, their battle cries bouncing off the stone walls and into the darkness beyond.

A few hours had passed when Elyoric awoke. It had stopped raining, and it was clearly night by then.

Looking around sleepily, he suddenly realised that his arms were full of warm, soft necromancer. They must have shifted in their sleep at some point, as the boy was all but on top of him.

Zhalnyn breathed evenly, eyes closed in the grip of contented slumber. His head was tucked under the druid's jaw, and he had somehow worked the older man's shirt up, so his cheek was now pressed against the druid's bare chest, pale arms wrapped around the other's waist childishly.

Elyoric blinked, momentarily confused by the pleasant sensation of warm skin against his own, before the situation sank in. As quietly as he could, he tried to pry the boy's arms from around his torso, hoping that nobody would walk in on the two of them like that.

The boy seemed to resist a little at first, clinging on to him even though he tried to separate them, but soon enough Elyoric was free, blushing slightly as he brushed his hair with his hand and adjusted his clothes, making sure they didn't look too rumpled. With a final, curious look at the still sleeping boy, he quickly exited the tent, and headed straight for Akara to inform her that the young necromancer was awake.

It had been a long battle. Scratches and small cuts were clearly visible on the four of them. Gaile had been trapped by one of the countess's Fire Walls, causing her to suffer from a few burns, while Abhaya nursed a deep gash on her left thigh.

Paige leant against a wall, panting.

Her sisters seemed to be fine, that is to say their injuries were nothing more serious than what a bottle of red potion or two couldn't fix. Arixia was the least injured of them all, and at the moment the girl was busily gawking at the treasure they had managed to find.

Gold, piles of it, lay in exquisite chests all around them, some of the coins falling from their precarious positions to the ground. Other chests contained gems and various jewels, the many rubies and emeralds glittering in the golden light of the torches that were hung upon the walls. The countess had a fine collection of weapons and armour as well, and Arixia marveled at a scythe which would be perfect for Zhalnyn. Once the four had filled their pockets with everything they could carry, they opened a portal back to the camp, where they would divide up the treasure.

Now that they were back above ground, they realised that it was actually night. Most of the camp inhabitants had gone to bed by then, the remainder being the rogues who had to patrol the perimeter in case any beasts decided to show up. Kashya merely nodded at the four, before turning away and walking towards Akara's tent. Arixia chatted happily with the other three, giggling as they thought about the wealth they had acquired, when the three rogues suddenly fell silent. Her eyes widening, the sorceress turned towards her tent, and felt her mouth hang open.

"_**Welcome back**_."

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A/N: Chappie 6 is done...Mwahahaha yay for injured cuddling!


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